


The Blessing

by Anonymous



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Body Horror, Dean Suffers, Held Down, M/M, Non-Consensual Bondage, Non-Consensual Conception, Non-Consensual Fingering, Non-consensual fisting, Tied-Up Dean Winchester, Unhappy (open?) Ending
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-11
Updated: 2019-05-11
Packaged: 2020-02-29 22:42:10
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 652
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18787726
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: Dean is alone in the forest when he is chosen to receive a special honour, a blessing, really.It’s anything but.





	The Blessing

**Author's Note:**

> This is a bleak story; there is no rescue, and Dean is alone and in trouble with no way out.
> 
> Please heed the tags.

The forest felt empty, dead, around him; Dean knew that couldn’t be a good sign, but it also didn’t have to be a bad one.

A construction company was building a casino some ten miles up the road, with heavy vehicles passing down the road past the tree line all hours of the day and night, so maybe the wildlife had just been driven out.

It didn’t explain the disappearance of a couple of high school kids who’d come out here camping, unless some of those animals forced to flee had found the students in their path, and nature had just taken its course.

It’d happened before, and with nothing else to go on, Dean had a feeling it’d happened again.

That was when he saw the altar.

It was big, solid, granite looking and somehow ageless even with the twisted lettering chiselled into the sides.

No, no matter how it appeared, he had a feeling it had been here way longer than that.

Gnarled, twisted tree limbs and even roots formed a latticework around the sides and back, a weird, chilling display that Dean had never seen the like of before.

And though a small voice in his head was telling him to leave it be until he could come back with Sam and Cas, he was drawn forward, because now he was sure that this had something to do with those missing kids.

He wasn’t wrong.

++

The breath was punched out of his lungs as he was tossed down onto the altar. The Druid that had appeared suddenly from the forest raised his hand; before Dean could get up, those dark, twisting tree limbs had hold of him, tugging at his arms and legs, stretching him out and holding him effortlessly in place.

Roots came snaking out over his body; a couple fastened themselves around his throat, squeezing just enough that it got hard to breathe, and he was left pulling in only enough air to stay conscious.

The others got busy with tearing off his clothes, and then he was bare, and the stone was cold and harsh beneath him.

“Every hundred years,” the Druid said, “Volkis has the chance to be reborn. He has yet to grace us, but perhaps…. Perhaps this time, if he is pleased with the vessel that has been chosen.”

Vessel? Dean tried to struggle harder, but he nearly choked himself out, and was left panting, and terrified, as the Druid’s cold fingers smeared something damp and stinging around his hole.

And then those fingers were inside him. He screamed, the sound more a high pitched gargle thanks to the roots around his throat, as fingers became a hand, and then the guy’s whole fucking arm felt like it was halfway to his gut.

He was muttering, and Dean felt pain, and heat, and a sudden, unbearable pressure.

And that was all he felt for a while.

++

When he woke up, the roots had loosed their grip around his throat, but he was still held in place by the trees. They were gentler, now, but he still knew he wouldn’t get free.

He couldn’t hear the Druid, though, and raised his head to see where the fucker was.

That was when he saw why the trees were handling him more carefully now.

His stomach was huge, a bloated hump that seemed to swell even as he watched it. He could see tiny ripples beneath the skin, like something was stretching inside him.

“What the fuck,” he panted, and looked around him desperately.

The Druid was standing over him, seemingly come from nowhere, and he caressed Dean’s stomach with those cold, bony fingers.

“The omens are good,” he said. “You are blessed. Another few hours and our God will return once more to this world of men, and you will be his doorway.”

He turned and walked away, ignoring when Dean’s yells turned to screams.


End file.
